#and i've made choices that i stand by and choices that i don't and now i'm moving home and it's less than ideal but i'll make it work

[lemotmo]

What do you think Temu's role is in next week's episode? Apart from the funeral, (though I have fucking idea why he's carrying the coffin and not anyone else from A shift)

(Hopefully his final one!)

Yeah, the choice of him carrying that coffin is just weird. The 118 isn't just made up of Hen, Eddie (will be back soon), Chimney, Buck and Ravi. There are plenty of other firefighters at the station. We see them all the time in the background. It would make more sense that one of them would carry that coffin. He was their captain too.

But for plot reasons I suppose they decided to use Tommy. 🙄

I do think Tommy is there for a reason. We've seen in 15 that Buck and Tommy are back on good terms, but we also know that a relationship between them would never work. One, because Tommy knows that Buck isn't as interested in him as he would like him to be, mainly because he heavily suspects that Buck is in love with Eddie.

And two? Well, he is right. Buck is in love with Eddie. He just doesn't want to see it or even acknowledge it. 🤷‍♀️

But how could they fit that in the episode?

Well, I keep coming back to all the parallels between 7x03, 7x04, 8x15 and possibly 8x16:

I've been thinking about Tommy's arc. It started with him flying his helicopter to save Bathena (7x03). The next episode (7x4) he tried to woo Eddie, but ended up kissing Buck.

Now he, once again, flew his helicopter to help save Chimney and the others in 15. He showed up because Buck called him.

We also know that Eddie will be back in 16. I've speculated before that I think there'll be a convo between Tommy and Eddie. I really think this I'll happen as a parallel to 7x04, where Tommy and Eddie were shown to be friends. We do know that Eddie stopped talking to Tommy when BT broke up, so it might be a bit of an awkward conversation where both feel out of their depth.

Additionally I potentially see Tommy give Eddie some kind of hint as to not wait to long to go after what he wants or something generic like that. Which will undoubtedly puzzle Eddie and might be something that he can't get out of his head in the two last episodes.

So, my current theory for 8x16 is that they will parallel the scene where Tommy comes over to Buck's loft in 7x04. Only this time it won't end with Tommy kissing Buck.

So Tommy shows up at Buck's house after the funeral to check in on him and finds Eddie already there, taking care of Buck because Eddie knows exactly what Buck needs. At the same time Buck will also take care of Eddie, because he lost Bobby too. Tommy will probably also find out that Eddie is staying with Buck as long as he's in LA.

Cue the awkward conversation (+ possible hint) with Eddie I talked about in the paragraphs above. Tommy might then have a short talk with Buck (probably in the kitchen again) that links back to the kitchen conversation after they hooked up.

And that might just trigger Buck to realise that life is too short. He can't just keep denying these feelings he has for Eddie. Cue Buck realising and accepting that he is actually in love with his best friend.

It might even end with a nice Buddie scene after Tommy leaves. Now, in a perfect world it would end with a Buddie kiss to parallel the BT kiss, but I don't think we are quite there yet. It seems a bit too fanficy. And also... Bobby just died. Now might not be the best time. 😫😂

So most probably Eddie will ask Buck if he is okay and Buck will just stand there trying to be normal with the realisation that he has fallen in love with Eddie.

Oh and let's not forgot the Bathena parallel in both episodes either. In 7x03 Buck and Athena had a reunion on the ship with Buck, Eddie and Tommy looking at them.

In 8x16 they'll (hopefully if Bobby is still alive) have another reunion as Bobby will be back. Probably with everyone there to see it.

(Yes, I am a Bobby is alive truther. Trust.😌)

I also don't think that Eddie's realisation will be too far behind once we have confirmation of Buck's feelings. Oliver has expressed his concerns before of not wanting to do the storyline of the bisexual man falling for his straight best friend. So I think they'll try to avoid that by making sure that Eddie will start his own journey of realisation as he starts to get more and more aware that Buck is a part of his joy and happiness in life.

All right everyone, keep in mind that this is just speculation.😋 These are my thoughts about what MIGHT happen in 8x16, based on what we know so far (which is almost nothing) and based on parallels with previous episodes. So please take all of this with a grain of salt. I'm here for the fandom fun, but I'm not clairvoyant. 😉

This might shock you, but I have been wrong before in my spec. 😂😂😂

[yosuk-e]

may i light your cigarette? ft. suna rintaro

in which you share a cig with uni!suna, who's wants you just as much as you do him.

content warning: swearing, smoking (duh), some suggestiveness

wc: 687

a/n: i've had a pending request for a suna fic for a little bit and i still don't know if this does it any justice... can't say i loved this one very much but i certainly hope you guys do !! listening to this while reading is highly recommended !

you and suna rintaro aren't regular talkers. not outside of the interactions made in the hallways in between lectures, certainly not outside of the shy glances you throw at him every now and then in between the conversations you have with the miya brothers, when he's standing beside them. in fact, suna rintaro himself isn't a talker in general, seemingly more expressive with his thoughts than with his mouth.

and yet, you feel it in the way that he glares at you (he knows you know), the way suna hovers over you when you're both waiting at the bus stop (you're irresistible), the way he breathes the scent of your overly sweet perfume (he can't stand it), the way he's all around you (but he can't seem to escape you).

another one of your busy days finally comes to a close, your legs are sore from walking, one class to another. damn this campus, you think to yourself, as you make your way down the lonely street. 7:58PM. shit, you might just barely make it on time to the bus. a quick look around you assures you that nobody's about to see your rushed, silly run, as you pace towards the bus stop in hopes of making it in time at least by a minute. please, please, please make it there on time, you scurry over past the street as quickly as your tired legs can take you.

your hopes are met with misfortune, as the moment you get to your destination the bus has already made it's way to the next stop. just my damn luck, you curse under your breath.

what you don't expect, though, is that your hopes are also met with the 6'2, brunette hunk of a volleyball player that loomed over you, a cigarette nestled in between his two fingers, relaxing into it. his lungs expanded as he took a deep breath from it, exhaling an equally long puff of smoke which formed patterns in the soft wind that swept the smoke your way. the smell of tobacco invaded your nostrils, almost pulling you into him. "hey." his greeting startles you, sudden in his undisturbed voice and unbothered mannerisms. "c'mon, i don't bite." he chuckled in his smoky voice.

you hadn't made eye contact with him up until now, and it's as though almost immediately his eyes had pulled you into a trance. he wasn't glaring, perse. just observing... intrusively. unapologetically. you gulp, making the choice to respond after what felt like an awkwardly long silence, "hey... sunarin."

the pressure under which he inadvertently put you was too intense to bear, prompting you to wonder whether he had felt it too. "you smoke?"

truthfully, you hadn't smoked very often. something about suna asking you made you want to change that, "every now and then."

suna stepped towards you as he rummaged his pocket for a lighter and a sobranie gold, "c'mere. all i got right now."

reluctantly, your hand pulls to grab the cigarette, and he almost instinctively motions to light it for you once it's at your mouth, the end burning up in contact with his lighter.

you share a beat of silence, longingly staring onto the now-wet, puddled road. the rain that had started just about a moment ago began to grow in intensity.

"do you do this for every girl you meet?"

"do you flash your pretty eyes at every guy you see?" immediately, your head whips around to see a smirk that's formed on his face. "think i can't tell?"

suna takes another step, closing the space in between you two as he leans down to shamelessly blow a puff of smoke into your face. "you know," he licks his lips, "you're really bad at hiding it."

your heart's racing because you know he's right- but damn is it hard to admit, especially when you've got suna rintaro, resident heartthrob standing only a few inches from you.

"suna..." his index finger moves to raise your chin, making the unbearable eye contact unavoidable. "if y'got something to say, say it, pretty. you know you can't hide from me."

a/n: a little cliffhanger (kind of?) there at the end :3 hope you liked it! i struggled a bit with this one, and kind of scrapped half of it at some point. i dooooo kind of wanna continue it but i'm not sure yet. let me know if you want more of this suna?

[gracebriarwoodwrites]

I write fragile on a dozen boxes salvaged from recycling I forgot to take out before I knew I was moving and my hand shakes even more each time. The lines bleed off the box corners and into me. I'm fragile, you see.

[icedb1ackcoffee]

to my fellow creatives: never stop making art. art is an act of protest.

[flecks-of-stardust]

wholeheartedly and with as much gentleness as possible, i truly think there needs to be more discussion about downpour in the community as it is now. for a variety of reasons.

[vaspider]

Tonight, the night before Election Day 2024 in the US, I am thinking about my stepkid.

I am thinking about the phone call they made to us earlier this year, the one where they told us they'd gone to the hospital thinking they had appendicitis and found out, instead, that a zygote - a tiny splodge of cells - had taken up residence not in their uterus but in a fallopian tube. The one where our kid said they were waiting for their partner to arrive, hoped that said partner would get there before the docs took our kid back to terminate that pregnancy, & assured us that they'd be okay.

After all, our kid lives in a state with choice measures embedded in state law. That pea-sized blot of tissue doesn't have more right to their health than they do. Nobody is standing between them and their doctors. They made a decision, and that was that.

In this tiny tragedy, the kind that plays out dozens of times a day at minimum across the country, we only had to worry about the small risk of surgery complications. We didn't have to worry about Ken Paxton threatening to charge their doctors with felonies. We didn't have to think, "What if the hospital's legal team doesn't think an ectopic pregnancy - which is never ever viable and must be terminated before it kills our kid - is really that big of a deal?" We didn't have to worry that they live in a state where ob-gyns are fleeing, leaving few experts behind, as has happened in Idaho.

We didn't have to watch our kid vomit up black blood before dying the day after their baby shower the way Neveah's mom did. We didn't have to pray in a waiting room (while doctors took our kid apart until their heart stopped because the doctors waited too long out of fear of anti-choice laws) until a doctor came to tell us we'd have to bury them the way that Amber's mom did. We aren't having to pick up our lives after fully treatable miscarriage-related sepsis took them from us the way that Josseli's husband and daughter must.

I could go on for far, far too long.

Listen. If you are a single-issue non-voter and have already decided that "both parties are the same" or whatever other thing you've told yourself so you can sleep at night, smug and secure, then I can't reach you and I can't help you. But if you genuinely think that your votes don't matter, if you're just suffering from a bout of overwhelm or apathy, if you're too young to remember the 2000 election and can't see that Dobbs is a direct result of that election and every one that's followed, please, I am fucking begging you.

I didn't really talk about this when it happened. I mentioned something briefly, maybe. The posts I've started writing about it are still in my drafts. It was too fresh, too frightening. It's not any less frightening now, honestly - because if this week doesn't end with President Kamala Harris, we're headed for a national abortion ban, at the minimum - but it's not about how fucking frightened I was or how sad and bewildered I was to realize that my kid was going through this crisis in a nation more hostile to them than when I needed a D&C for an abortion at 21, in 1998.

It's about stopping this chapter of this fucking bullshit and at least finding some new fucking bullshit.

Vote, dammit.

Do the other work on Wednesday. Tomorrow, the work is to vote.

[deathbxnny]

Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠

Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️

Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》VI

She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.

You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.

And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.

Why, why, why.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.

Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.

"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"

She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."

Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.

She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.

》CAITLYN

"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.

It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.

Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.

The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"

Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.

"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.

She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.

There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.

For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.

》JINX

Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.

The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.

"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?

"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.

Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.

Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.

Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.

》EKKO

To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.

Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.

Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.

And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.

"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.

"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."

He let you win.

》SEVIKA

She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.

You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.

And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.

She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.

Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.

"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.

"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.

"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."

[cosmicsproutcake]

im so sorry you cant bring yourself to watch hazbin hotel anymore but i also understand why husk and vaggie were very jarring to me as well

Vaggie I can get over because I'm not particularly attached to Vaggie, but Husk is one of my favourite characters, and he sounds literally nothing like he did in the pilot.

Vaggie still does bother me, for the same reason they all bother me, and that reason is "damn you couldn't even try to sound like the VAs from the pilot, huh?" Like I can hear that Alastor's voice is different, a voice so heavily modulated that it's basically AI, and I can tell it's a different VA.

I'll give it a few more tries to see if I'll adapt, but I was literally having to pause like every time Husk spoke to quell my rage, so I'm not confident.

[girlyhornywriter]

You're still worried you're going to regret this?

Come on, pig. It's a little late for that, isn't it? You know there's no going back to how things used to be. Not now, after what you've done to yourself. Don't give me that look, you know this wasn't all my idea.

You just wouldn't stop begging to know about my fantasies... I didn't have any choice but to sate your curiosity and tell you that I liked bigger girls. Girls that jiggle when they walk and get out of breath when they walk up the stairs. You know, fat girls. You were so slim, and I didn't expect that you'd want to satisfy my kinks like that, but you said that you'd maybe gain a little weight for me, just so I could squeeze your belly while we made out. Nothing crazy, just an extra meal here and there. You'd keep it under control.

It's not my fault that your fat ass lost all self-control.

You were just having too much fun, weren't you? You loved feeling my hands caressing your soft, sensitive curves. The way I always slipped a hand under your top to give your gut a squeeze whenever I pulled you in for a kiss must have done more to your poor, horny brain than I could have ever imagined...

Well, of course I noticed what was happening, but did you expect me to say anything? You have no idea how much I loved watching you go back for seconds and thirds every time we went to a buffet. I couldn't get enough of hearing your sheepish voice asking if we had any ice-cream left in the freezer immediately after finishing an extra-large dinner. And maybe I didn't help your waistline by offering to drive you everywhere... But at your size back then, you'd have gotten so worn out and exhausted by having to walk more than a couple of blocks.

Not any more, though. Now you can't even make it to the end of the street.

Oh, you think I'm exaggerating? Babe, you haven't hauled your fat, lazy ass off of that couch in days. If it wasn't for the fact that I keep throwing away all your empty bags of snacks once you've poured them down your greedy throat, I'm pretty sure you'd be buried in them by now. Come on, just try to stand up.

...

Gosh, you really tried there, didn't you? There's no way you'd be panting and sweating like this if you hadn't been putting effort into that. I knew you'd become a fat mess, but I didn't realise it was this bad... You're all blubber and lard now, aren't you? Whatever muscle you had is so lost under layer upon layer of soft, jiggling flab that there's no way you're going to work off all these calories of adipose you've eaten onto your figure.

Well yeah, maybe a diet would work, but I'm not going to let you go on one, piglet.

Why? Because I've got you right where I've always wanted you, princess. You're too fat to move and too well-trained as a mindless, gluttonous cow to undo the damage you've done. I might not have made you gain all this weight, but I'm not about to see it melt away either. I love the way it feels too much, the way you jiggle with every movement, the way it pins you to the couch and only grows softer and heavier every time I feed you.

If I were you, piglet, I'd get used to this. Learn to enjoy it, because I certainly will... Maybe if you're a good girl for me, I'll find you some clothes that actually fit over your immense bulk. Though anything I find isn't going to fit you for very long - You're so big and obese, piggy, but you've still got a long way to go...

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[poguehearted77]

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #13

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"It's time to move on."

"There's no going back."

"Why do you care?"

"This could change everything."

"I need to know the truth."

"We can't give up hope."

"I knew it would come to this."

"They won't stop until they get what they want."

"I won't let you down."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I can't do this without you."

"We need to take a risk."

"How can I ever trust you again?"

"It's not too late to turn back."

"We need to act fast."

"This isn't about winning."

"What did you expect?"

"We need to find another way."

"How can you be so calm?"

"I won't let them hurt you."

"Why didn't you believe me?"

"This is our moment."

"I didn't know who else to turn to."

"We need to stay together."

"How did it come to this?"

"You're the only one who understands."

"We have to be ready for anything."

"I wish things were different."

"It's not as simple as it looks."

"What are we waiting for?"

"You think you know me, but you don't."

"It's not about what we want; it's about what we need."

"I've made mistakes, but this isn't one of them."

"Every choice comes with a consequence."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"We have to find another way."

"You're stronger than you realize."

"I can't keep doing this forever."

"What if everything we've been told is a lie?"

"I won't let fear control me."

"Why do you always have to be right?"

"There's no place I'd rather be than here with you."

"This isn't the life I imagined."

"We have to keep moving forward."

"No one said it would be easy."

"We can't let them get away with this."

"It's time to make a stand."

"I never thought it would end like this."

"Do you really believe that?"

"We can't change the past, but we can shape the future."

"I'm not as perfect as you think."

"This is the moment we've been waiting for."

"You can't hide from the truth."

"Everything is falling apart."

"We need to stick to the plan."

"I refuse to give up."

"They don't understand what we're capable of."

"This is just the beginning."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"We're running out of options."

"This is bigger than both of us."

"I can't believe you did that."

"We're all in this together."

"You have to see it from my perspective."

"It's not as simple as black and white."

"We're fighting for something greater than ourselves."

"I didn't choose this path; it chose me."

"We have to be brave."

"You're not alone in this."

"This isn't a game."

"I didn't come this far to fail now."

"We can't let fear hold us back."

"I'm not the same person I used to be."

"This isn't about revenge."

"I believe in you."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

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[d1stalker]

I Want You [Logan Howlett]

Summary: Logan is jealous of you and Scott's friendship, not knowing your true feelings.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please. fem/afab!reader. brief argument, logan being stubborn comme d'hab, making out, oral, riding, you get the idea ;)

WC: 2.9k - MASTERLIST

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the X-Mansion grounds. You find yourself on the patio, leaning against the railing, watching as the last rays of sunlight dip below the trees. The tranquility of the moment is soothing, a brief escape from the chaos that often fills your days.

Your mind drifts to earlier that day, when you and Scott had been working together in the training room. He's always been a good friend—someone you can rely on when you need advice or a steady hand in a crisis. Scott had patiently helped you fine-tune your abilities, offering encouragement and constructive feedback.

"You're really getting the hang of it," Scott had said with a smile as you both took a break, sitting on the edge of the training mat. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Scott," you had replied, grateful for his support. "Couldn't have done it without your help."

He had shrugged, a modest grin on his face. "We make a good team. It's nice to have someone who gets it, you know?"

You had nodded, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship between you. Scott was like the brother you never had, someone who understood the challenges you faced and never judged you for them.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching breaks your reverie. You recognize them immediately—Logan.

"You and Summers seem to be gettin' pretty close."

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Scott? We're just friends, Logan. You know that."

He crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm standin'."

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can’t help but let it spill over. "And where exactly are you standing? Lurking in the shadows, jumping to conclusions?"

His eyes narrow, jaw clenching. "I'm just callin' it like I see it."

"You don't see anything," you retort, matching his intensity. "You're too busy looking for problems that aren't there."

He steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "I see the way he looks at you."

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "And how do I look at him, Logan?"

"Like he hung the damn moon," Logan mutters, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"That's rich coming from the guy who's too stubborn to see what's right in front of him," you snap back, heart pounding.

He pauses, taken aback by your words. "What do you mean by that?"

You take a deep breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "I mean, I'm not in love with Scott. I'm in love with you. But you're too busy being jealous and stubborn to notice."

He blinks, surprise flickering across his features. His defenses falter for a moment, and you see the real him beneath the rugged exterior. "Me? Why the hell would you—"

"Because you're you, Logan," you interrupt, voice softer now. "You're gruff and infuriating, but you're also brave and kind. You see through the facade I put up, and you make me want to be better."

He looks at you, his hardened exterior cracking. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you,” he says, quietly. 

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. The contact is electric, as always, grounding both of you in the moment. "You don't get to decide that for me. I've made my choice."

He stares at you, a mix of disbelief and longing in his eyes. "All this time... and I was just bein' a damn fool."

"Yeah, you were,” you say with a smile, the tension between you dissipating. 

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess I should apologize for actin' like a jerk, huh?"

You nod, teasingly. "That would be a good start."

He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that makes your heart race. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was stupid, and I let my jealousy get the best of me."

You smile, feeling the last remnants of your anger melt away. "Apology accepted, but you're gonna have to make it up to me."

Tthe familiar glint returns to his eyes as he smirks. "Oh, I will. Count on it."

A comfortable silence falls between you. The night air is cool and refreshing, and you can hear the distant sounds of laughter from inside the mansion.

"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" Logan asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

"I guess I was scared," you admit. "Scared of ruining what we have, of pushing you away. You’re not exactly easy to read."

He chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who’s scared. I’m not good at this...feelin’ stuff. Always thought it’d get in the way."

"It doesn’t have to," you say, hoping your words convey the sincerity you feel. "You don’t have to do this alone, Logan. We can figure it out together."

He nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You share a moment of quiet understanding. For once, there’s no need for words. You both know what this means.

"Come on," Logan says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Let’s get outta here for a while."

"Where to?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he shrugs. "Anywhere but here. I hear there’s a nice little spot by the lake where the stars look like they’re close enough to touch."

You laugh, "Alright, lead the way.”

---

The walk to the lake is peaceful, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The sound of your footsteps on the gravel path blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. You and Logan walk side by side, your fingers occasionally brushing against each other, only feeding the tension that seems to be growing as each moment passes.

When you reach the lake, the water shimmers under the starlight, a breathtaking view that makes you catch your breath. Logan finds a spot on the grassy bank, and you settle down beside him, lying back to gaze up at the sky.

"It's beautiful here," you whisper, feeling the tranquility of the moment seep into your bones.

Logan nods, his gaze fixed on you instead of the stars. "Yeah, it is."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, grounding you in the reality of this moment.

You tilt your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. There's a softness there that you haven't seen before, a vulnerability that makes your heart swell. "I've wanted this for a long time, Logan."

He smiles, a rare and genuine expression that lights up his features. "Me too. Guess I was too stubborn to admit it."

You chuckle softly, reaching up to trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. "I like this side of you."

He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not careful. The world around you fades away as Logan leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It's slow and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepens into something more urgent and heated.

You shift closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his hand slides up your back, pulling you even closer. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself as the kiss intensifies, leaving you breathless.

Breaking away briefly, his forehead rests against yours as he catches his breath. "You sure about this?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your own breath coming in short gasps. "Absolutely."

With a growl of approval, Logan captures your lips again, the kiss filled with a hunger that leaves you dizzy. He shifts, pulling you with him as he rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his hips. His hand traces down your side, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The world around you feels distant and unimportant, the only thing that matters is the man with you and the way he makes you feel.  

As the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the moment, the passion and intensity of it all consuming you. Slowly, you rock back and forth, grinding your hot core against his growing bulge. Something akin to a growl releases from his throat, as his hands tighten their grip on you.

Breaking the kiss, Logan trails his lips down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him to continue his journey, savouring the sensation of his mouth against you. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt, pausing to look up at you. With deliberate slowness, he slides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it with a flick of his wrist. He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing the curves of your waist with a gentle reverence.

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

His eyes roam over you appreciatively, lingering on your bare skin. His words and gaze make your heart race and heat flood your cheeks.

“Says you,” you murmur, feeling a heady mix of vulnerability and desire under his gaze.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, flipping you over so you’re now on your back as he hovers above you. “I’ve thought about this moment more times than I can count.”

He begins to kiss the valley between your breasts, hands never ceasing their exploration of your body. Your grasp finds the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers trace over his muscles, delighting in the way they ripple beneath your touch.

Logan grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves even lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach. Each touch is electric, leaving a path of heat in its wake. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs. With your pants discarded, Logan settles himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to make room for himself. His touch is firm yet gentle, and you shiver in anticipation as he leans in, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.

He starts with soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasing you with his lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. The feeling sends a thrill through you, making your heart race and your body ache for more. Finally, Logan focuses his attention on your centre, his mouth moving with expert precision as he tastes you. The first touch of his tongue is like fire, a sensation so intense that it steals your breath away. You gasp, your hands finding their way to his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure begins to build.

He works you with a practiced ease, his tongue tracing patterns that have you arching into him, seeking more of the exquisite sensations he’s giving you. He alternates between gentle flicks and firmer strokes, finding a rhythm that leaves you trembling beneath him. Your soft moans and gasps fill the night air, mingling with the sound of the lake and the distant rustle of leaves. Logan responds to your every sound, adjusting his movements, his sole focus on drawing out your pleasure.

As the tension coils within you, winding tighter with each deft movement of his tongue, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Logan senses your impending climax, his efforts doubling as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. With a final flick of his tongue at your clit with gentle, firm pressure, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. The world dissolves around you as the waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Logan stays with you through it all, his touch gentle and reassuring as you come down from your high. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh before moving back up to lie beside you, gathering you into his arms as you catch your breath. “Logan,” you whisper, feeling a warmth that’s more than just physical spreading through you.

He smiles, a satisfied, tender expression on his face as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

You shift slightly, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The sight of him, hair tousled and eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire, stirs something within you. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

Responding eagerly to your initiation, the kiss deepens as your hands explore each other with a renewed sense of curiosity and hunger, as if he didn’t just make you finish with his mouth. You push him gently onto his back, straddling his hips as you trade positions once again, trailing kisses down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tense under your touch.

Your hands make quick work of his belt and jeans, tugging them down to reveal the hard length of him. He’s beautiful. Logan’s breath hitches as you take him in your hand, stroking him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that draws a low groan from his lips.

You lower yourself further, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of him, tasting and teasing until his hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you with a mix of urgency and need. The sounds he makes, the way he reacts to your touch, only spurs you on, and you take him deeper, reveling in the way his body responds to yours.

“Darlin’,” Logan rasps, his voice strained with pleasure, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smile against him, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes matching the fire burning within you. “Well, don’t go dying on me now,” you tease, moving back up to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you settle over him. You barely break the kiss as you grab his length and slowly sit down on it. The pleasure of being filled by him draws a gasp from your lips, and a hearty groan vibrates underneath you.

You brace yourself against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your palms, as you begin to move. The rhythm starts slow and steady, each movement deliberate as you rise and fall, taking him deeper with each movement of your hips. Soon enough, you feel him begin to thrust up into you, matching your pace, pounding into you even deeper than before. 

Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you pick up the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sound of your breathy sighs and his low groans fill the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves and the lapping of the lake against the shore.

His eyes remain locked on yours, a dark and heated gaze that stokes the fire within you. You feel the tension coiling tight, winding with each movement until it’s all-consuming, a need that demands release.

“I’m close,” you gasp, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. 

The tension within you builds to a crescendo, a tidal wave of sensation that sweeps you away. With one final movement, you tumble over the edge, your release crashing over you in a symphony of pleasure that leaves you trembling in his arms.

He follows soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he finds his own release, his hands finding and squeezing your breasts while his body shudders beneath you.

When the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you smile against his skin, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that only comes from being with him.

The night air cools the heat between you, and you nestle against Logan’s side, feeling safe and cherished in the aftermath of your shared passion. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you as you bask in the warmth of his embrace.

“Wow,” you whisper, a soft laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, the stars reflected in his eyes. “That was…”

“Incredible,” he finishes for you, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got me all figured out, darlin’.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “I think we’ve got eachother figured out.”

“Yeah, we do,” Logan agrees, pulling you closer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As the night stretches on, you find comfort and peace in Logan’s embrace, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful and real. You’ve found a home in each other’s arms—a place where you truly belong.

---------

A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut yikes lol please leave feedback!

[dailynnt]

「RISK TASTES LIKE STRAWBERRIES AND THUNDER」

❱❱ Summary: After a too-loud party and a few too many cocktails, you calls brother to take you home. But instead of Yoongi, his friend Jungkook arrives, with a dangerous look, double piercings, and a voice that makes everything inside you burn. Your've known each other for a long time, but have always kept their distance, due to your brother's tacit prohibition. But the forbidden feelings between you two collides when Jungkook kiss you to avoid the attention of the police. And when they drive away you two can't stop.

❱❱ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

❱❱ Age restrictions: 18+

❱❱ Size: one shot

❱❱ Tags: Jungkook!biker, friend's best brother, alcohol, nightclub, angst elements, forbidden feeling, sexual tension, swear words, illegal weapons, JK breaks the law? smut, explicit content, detailed description intimate scenes, dom!jk/sub!oc, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.

❱❱ From author: So a new story! Gosh girls, I've been dreaming of posting this story for three days, but something kept getting in the way 😬 Today we celebrate Easter, and I still managed to escape from the guests to post this. In any case, I wish all Christians a happy Easter! Happiness and boundless sincere love to all of you 🐇✨ And of course, I really, really hope that you will like this story which not at all for the holiday 🤭

❱❱ Dedication: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @ggingerismm, @kooko009 for you, my most favorite babies 🥰

❱❱ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be inaccuracies, mistakes in the text and strange sentences so please be lenient with me 🥹😬 Please have protected sex ☝🏻

Loud music filled every inch of the club. The pulsation of the bass thumped right into your chest, mixing with the bitter aftertaste of the cocktail on your lips. In the red light that made its way through the smoke, you felt dizzy. The smell of the smoke made your stomach twist with obsessive nausea. You had been drinking a lot and dancing hard on the dance floor, and that's what made you feel so bad.

Your friends were still dancing, and you were already in the bathroom, standing by the sink, leaning your hands on the edge. Your face was slightly wet with water, and the cold liquid brought you back to your senses.

You picked up the phone and dialed your brother's number.

"Hello, Yoongi-oppa?" the voice sounded a little hoarse.

"Mmm? Where are you?" his even voice came through the receiver. Quiet, a little tired.

"Hongdae, at ‘V!be 51’, with the girls, I told you I was going. But... I don't feel good. I think I had a little too much to drink. Can you pick me up, please? I don't want to go alone - some assholes have already approached me twice."

"Dammit…" he muttered under his breath. "I’m on the other side of Seoul right now. I went to Songcheon. The ‘Burning Tempo’ organizers are driving me crazy because the equipment is acting up. It keeps crashing, I’m fixing it right now. I won’t be able to come, I need to finish this or we won’t make it before the festival starts."

You sighed in frustration.

"Okay, I'll take a taxi..." you mumbled into the phone.

"Wait, I know Jungkook is supposed to be at the Hongdae today, I'll call him now. He'll pick you up."

"Jungkook?" your heart skipped a beat. Your reaction to that name had been the same since you met your brother's friend. "Oops, don't bother, I'll take..."

"No," your brother interrupted, "No taxis. If you go out to wait for that taxi, some other assholes might come up to you. And Jungkook will take you home and I'll be calm that he will be with you," Yoongi said decisively. You won't be calm with Jungkook by your side. But your brother was determined, and you seemed to have no choice.

"Okay, oppa. I'll wait for him," you agreed in a tortured voice. Yoongi told you to wait at the club and that Jungkook would call you to come out.

You sat on a cushioned couch at the side of the dance floor, among your friends, but you felt a little disconnected. Your fingers were mindlessly scrolling through the feed on your phone, although you were really only waiting for one thing: a call from Jungkook. His name kept popping into your head over and over again, each time making your stomach clench with a wave of nervous anticipation.

Jungkook was your brother Yoongi's friend, four years younger than he, but inscribed in his life as if they had known each other forever. Yoongi had his own inseparable group of six friends with whom he went through school, student parties, and sleepless nights of music.

It all started with Jin - they were like fire and ice, but they always stuck together. The university added new faces: Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung. Music became their language, their common heartbeat. They recorded in the same studio, hung out at festivals, and jammed for hours at night, as if time ceased to exist.

Jungkook appeared later, the youngest of them all, but he immediately fit in as if he had always been part of their circle. Jimin came along with him-they had been inseparable since childhood. The company turned into a real brotherly pack, close, loyal, where everyone has each other's back.

However, you were never a full-fledged part of their company, despite your very warm relationship with your brother. Yoongi made it clear to the boys from the very beginning that anyone who tries to get close to you will have to deal with him. You are forbidden territory for all of them.

His overprotection was annoying. Every guy who showed interest in you disappeared sooner or later, either because of Yoongi’s passive aggression or his direct interference, so now you're alone.

But it was different with Jungkook.

You fell in love with him from the first time you met him. He was completely your type, and that slight dangerous vibe from his biker image-with the double piercing in his lip and the sleeve of tattoos on his arm-was like a magnet for you. But you were even more attracted to his character - a little self-confident, a little warm, with the same inner strength that attracted you more than any image.

You didn't talk much, only in the moments when Yoongi took you with him to a party together, or he came to visit your house with other guys. Occasionally, when Jungkook needed your brother urgently, he would call you and you would have a short conversation on the phone.

Jungkook liked to make fun of you, and you always had something to say to him in return. But there was always something more behind those jokes. Your eyes always stayed on him a little longer than they should. And when he laughed at you, you laughed back, hiding the trembling inside.

But you've noticed that Jungkook's behavior has changed lately. It was after your trip to the Busan festival, when you were camping at the campground, that you confused Yoongi's shirt with Jungkook's and wore it overnight, just to be comfortable. It was hot, so you wore nothing else.

In the morning, when you were going to the shower, you accidentally bumped into Jungkook. He immediately recognized the his T-shirt you were wearing. You mumbled an embarrassed apology and promised to wash it and return it. But he reassured you and told you that you could keep it.

You noticed his appraising look and wanted to run away as fast as possible, and when you were about to do so, Jungkook came a little closer and said that no one would have looked better on that shirt than you.

From that moment on, everything changed.

His jokes became more frequent. They became more playful... more frank. But of course he did this when Yungi wasn't around. You couldn't believe that it was a courtship. Because Jungkook knew how it could end. He knew that your brother would not forgive him for even a look that lasted longer than it should.

So when Yoongi told you that Jungkook was coming, you felt that familiar tremor inside you that you felt every time he was mentioned.

The phone vibrated in your hands just as you were about to put all your thoughts aside and plunge back into your social media feed.

On the screen, you see Jungkook's name and a message in Kako-talk:

11.47pm | JK: "I'm here tiny. My bike, right in front of the sign."

You text him back:

11.47pm | You: "I'm coming"

You stood up, said goodbye to the girls, and went to the exit. You stepped out into the night air, which barely gave off the warmth of the asphalt heated during the day. It was summer outside, but night was cool.

You walked swaying slightly, and that stupid nausea didn't go away.

You spotted him right away.

Jungkook stood leaning on his bike, looking like he was on the cover of a magazine - a black leather jacket over a gray T-shirt that stretched over his lean body, dark jeans that were slightly worn, and chunky biker boots. He had his hood pulled down slightly over the back of his head, and his silver earrings and lower lip piercing glistened in the light of the sign.

Instinctively, you slowed down for a few seconds-not to look at him, no... just to collect yourself. So as not to give away that you are already burning from the inside from the mere sight of him. And the alcohol in your blood intensified the secret feelings that you usually hid.

His gaze immediately caught yours. And before his eyes met yours, they instantly ran all over your figure.

Today you chose a loose, short skirt made of thick, dark graphite-colored fabric, a white shirt with casually rolled up sleeves, and a black leather jacket on top. You wore chunky black platform boots that added a bit of daring. You put your hair in a loose bun, with a few strands in the front stretched out and falling over your face. Your makeup was light, with no lipstick.

Jungkook smiled slightly, but somehow... in his own way. This smile made you even more nervous.

"What, tiny, is the party so boring that you're going home at such a childish hour?" he called out, not hiding his pleasure at your appearance.

You walked over and stopped a few steps away from him. Your lips reflexively turned up in a smile similar to his.

"Oh, I'd hang out more, but I'm nauseous, and I don't think those cocktails are my kind of drink," you said. Jungkook gave a short laugh. His tongue touched the rings in his lip and you just couldn't help but stare at it. And Jungkook, in turn, glanced down at your skirt and slender legs.

"Will it be okay for you to ride on a bike in this?" he nodded his head at your legs, not taking his eyes off your hips. You looked down as if you had forgotten that you were wearing a short skirt. After evaluating it, you shrugged and said casually.

"Yeah, what's the big deal?"

Jungkook playfully raised one eyebrow and replied, still smiling.

"Aren't you afraid that half of Seoul will see your thong?"

You froze for a split second, caught off guard by his words. And then, accepting his another game, you answered.

"You know I wear a thong? Did you go through my wardrobe while I was away?"

Jungkook snorted slightly, tilting his head to the side, and slowly ran his fingers along the top edge of the bike seat, as if fighting hard not to answer even more brazenly.

"No, tiny, I just imagined..." he looked down at you, his eyes darkening slightly, "...and for some reason it's so easy for me."

This made you give him a fake angry look, but your cheeks gave you away - they were already covered with a hot blush that you couldn't hide even in the dim light of the night sky.

"You shouldn't fantasize so much, biker. Come on, take me home, I really feel suck," you muttered, trying not to smile, and at that moment you came closer to get on the bike.

You straightened your skirt a little, sat down carefully, trying to do it with as much dignity as possible-which, of course, was not easy in these conditions. But Jungkook gallantly reached out his hand, holding your waist, and said, coming close so that you could hear him clearly, over the noise of the cars and the chatter of people around the club.

"You know, if I weren't such a gentleman, I wouldn't be looking to the side right now. But I am a polite guy. Well, tonight."

"Polite?" you snorted, "That doesn't fit with your 'thong' comments."

"I have a multifaceted personality, don't forget, I'm a golden makne" he winked and, without taking his hands off your waist, handed you a helmet. "Put it on and hold on tight. Especially in the turns, and try not to get knocked out at the road."

"Then you should ride more calmly, not like you're going to kill me."

Jungkook bit his lip piercing as he smiled, then pulled his helmet over his head.

"I don't know what it's like to ride a bike 'calmly'. But if you suddenly feel nauseous, tell me and I'll stop," he said as he sat in front and started the bike. The powerful roar of the engine was loud and vibrated in your chest.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, and you felt the warmth of his body even through the layers of his clothes. The bike moved off, gently picking up speed.

You were already in your neighborhood. It was only a 10-minute ride home, but you felt like your head was spinning. Your stomach felt heavy and your nausea was getting worse. You hugged Jungkook tighter, wanting to rest your head on his shoulder or back, but you held yourself back. Your hands unconsciously clutched the fabric of his T-shirt, and suddenly, over the sound of the engine and the noise from road, you heard his voice.

"Hey, tiny, are you alive up there?" he notice you were getting sick.

"I dying, without showing any sign of it," you said as loud as you could so he could hear.

"Are you feeling sick? Should I stop?" he asked, and you felt that subtle concern that he could voice like no one else.

"I'm nauseous, but I don't think I'm going to vomit. I feel dizzy," you admitted. Jungkook did not answer. He pulled off the road into a narrow private-sector street and after driving for a while stopped at a convenience store.

Jungkook turned off the engine and put the bike on a kickstand. He took off his helmet, and his hair was tousled. Jungkook got off the bike and turned to you. Without a word, he took off your helmet and easily, almost weightlessly, as if it were absolutely forbidden, smoothed out your hair.

"Stay outside, I'll buy you some water," he said, hanging your helmet next on his.

"Won't the water make me sick?" you asked.

Jungkook blinked, and then started looking for something in his jacket pockets.

"Only if it is whiskey with the flavor of spring water," he said jokingly, and his voice calmed your inner panic a little.

He headed for the store, and you stayed siting on the bike, taking a few deep breaths. The air was humid, full of the smell of the night city, and somewhere far away from the horizon you heard a dull rumble of thunder.

You raised your head. Heavy, dark clouds began to gather over the rooftops, covering the moon. A light wind began to blow - not sharp, but already tangible enough to ruffle the strands of your hair that had fallen out of the bun. The city seemed to hold its breath for a moment, waiting for the downpour that was about to hit.

Jungkook walked out of the store at a brisk pace, holding a bottle of water, clear and pink in color. You immediately noticed the strawberries on the label. In his other hand he held a chewing gum with the same flavor.

"Here, drink this, it's cold. It will help reduce nausea." he said, handing you a bottle of soda with strawberry juice. You smiled slightly as you took the bottle. You took a few sips, watching as he sneaks a piece of gum into his pocket and pulls out a new pack of cigarettes.

He quickly lights a cigarette, shielding from squally wind. The flame lit his face for a moment, and you watched him stealily, fascinated, as he took the first deep drag and exhaled the smoke. His eyes slid over your face, as if to check if you were really feeling better.

"How are you feeling?" he asked briefly.

You took another sip and answered.

"I'm still a little dizzy," you answered honestly.

"We're going to sit for a while and I'm going to drive you home," he looked up as he heard another roll of thunder, "shit, it looks like it's going to rain, the main thing is to get you home before the storm starts, otherwise you'll be showing Seoul not only your thong but what's under your shirt." he smiled slyly and you rolled your eyes. Jungkook pressed the filter of his cigarette to his lips, and you couldn't ignore the gesture.

"Is it my thong that's bothering you so much?" you asked, sounding angry. Jungkook looked down at your skirt and then at you, exhaling a thick puff of smoke, and you felt the smell of tobacco fill your nostrils.

"You nailed it!" he said in a low voice, "what color are you wearing today?"

Jungkook caught you again, and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. It was hard to compose yourself right away, but you did.

"Really? You want to know what color my thong is?" you asked, your voice playful and protesting at the same time. Jungkook nodded, smiling cheekily. He shook off the ash, revealing the orange ring that was on the tip of his cigarette. "What do you think?" you asked again, instead of answering.

Jungkook shook his head, looking down at your legs again, which were peeking out from under your skirt, and then looked back up at you, taking another drag.

"I think... black," his voice was hoarse, from the smoke and that predatory smile on his lips. You laughed, shaking his head in denial. How did you both end up discussing the color of your thong? If Yoongi could hear you now, you'd both were killed.

"You’re wrong, I'm wearing white," you said. You took a sip of your soda and the taste of strawberries was pleasant on your tongue. Jungkook exhaled cigarette smoke, looking at you carefully. He did his best to hide the desire that shone in his eyes when you told him the color of your underwear. Jungkook wanted to check, he wasn't used to taking a word for it.

"Is your bra white too?" he asked.

"I'm not wearing a bra, I'm wearing a top," you said shortly.

Jungkook smiled at the very corners of his lips, and slowly, without rushing, took another drag. The cigarette in his fingers lit up again, and you couldn't stand it and looked away, hiding your smile.

"So, no clasps," he muttered, almost to himself, as if he was imagining pulling that top off of you.

You snorted, swallowing your laughter.

"Are you planning to smoke and voice your fantasies out loud for a long time, or shall we go?"

Jungkook threw away the cigarette butt and crushed it under the soles of his heavy boots. He took a strawberry-flavored gum from his pocket. He unpacked the package and took two pillows and put them in his mouth.

"Wants one?" he asked you innocently, coming up to you. You silently stretched out your hand, and your heart was pounding inside because he ignored your words about fantasizing in the hearing. You took the gum into your mouth and chewed it several times, not taking your eyes off the person who gave it to you. The sweet tease of strawberries - it seems to be his favorite flavor. Now you will always associate it with Jungkook.

Jungkook looked at you for a moment longer, and then his eyes shifted up above your head. His brows drew together slightly, and his face took on a tense expression. You heard a car pull into the parking lot. You wanted to check who Jungkook was looking at so intensely, but before you could turn your head, you felt Jungkook's hand on your knee. He pushed your legs apart and stood between them, taking your face in his hands.

You were frozen, not realizing what was happening. He leaned toward you, stopping his face a few centimeters from yours.

"Play along, tiny. Pretend we're a couple and kiss me as passionately as you can."

Before you could react or ask any questions, his lips were on yours. Hot, soft, moist, with a subtle flavor of strawberry gum and tobacco. Your whole body was hit by a wave of electricity, and it was as if fireworks went off in your head. His fingers held your face gently, as if you were something fragile, and the kiss... God, that kiss was something you dreamed about at night.

Your heart was pounding in your throat. You closed your eyes and moved forward, responding. The sound of thunder in the distance merged with what was happening in your body, with lightning under your skin, with a storm somewhere between your ribs.

When the store door opened and someone walked in, Jungkook pulled you even closer to him, as if you were really his. His fingers slid down to your neck, and he slowly broke the kiss without taking his eyes off you. Barely audible, his lips left yours, and you both froze for a moment. You quickly glanced toward the store and noticed two men dressed in police uniforms.

"What are you...?" you whispered, not yet fully recovered.

"Police, tiny. They like to look at my bike and my trunk... I'd could to talk to them today, but I have something under the seat they mustn’t see," his voice was calm, even a little hoarse after the kiss.

Your eyebrows flew up.

"Something... that they shouldn't see?" your voice trembled not from fear, but from the excitement that was surging through your body.

Jungkook leaned closer, and you felt his lips touch your neck. One kiss. Then another. Hot, slow, deliberate. Your body melted in his touch. His lips moved up - behind your ear - and something clicked inside you. Your legs felt like cotton wool, and at the same moment you felt him press his hips into you. His arousal was undeniable.

You barely forced yourself to speak.

"What exactly are you hiding under there... under the seat?" your voice was breathy, almost unlike your own. Jungkook's lips almost touched your ear as he mumbled.

"Unregistered weapon."

You almost screamed, something between surprise and adrenaline rush clenching your insides. But he kissed you again, this time more deeply, passionately, hungrily. His tongue rushed into your mouth, and his hands went to your hips. For a moment, everything disappeared - the sky, the thunder, the police... Everything but him.

When the police left the store, he continued to kiss you, and at some point he pulled away and whispered into your lips.

"Put your legs around me," you did as he asked without objection, thus pressing him closer. You felt his hard cock pressing into your wet pussy.

The policemen stood in the street and then got into their car and drove away. You don't know if they were looking at you or if they wanted to come, but the result was what Jungkook needed.

The police drove away, but he didn't even think about moving away from you. His body continued to press against yours, which was sitting on the bike seat. His eyes did not move away, they looked at you as if you were already his. Completely.

"What are you even doing? Why are you transferring an unregistered weapon?" you finally asked, not hiding the tremor in your voice. Now, not only from the kisses, but a lot of questions were bubbling up in your head.

Jungkook raised one eyebrow, smirking.

"You’re such a curious," he murmured, eyes flicking down to your lips. "Makes me wonder… are you just as curious when it comes to sex, hmm, darling?" His voice was soft, teasing — laced with a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. Yet you held his gaze.

"I am... very curious," you whispered, answering two questions at once. You gulped down the dry air, feeling the words tumble out of your mouth.

Jungkook laughed. Quietly, deeply, with that predatory note you recognized. He leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours as he murmured.

"Yoongi-huyng will probably throw me in front of a train... but, damn it, I want to fuck you so bad."

And at that moment, your skin burst into flames. The words hadn't even fully sunk in yet, and your body had already given itself away, with the throbbing in your lower abdomen, the heavy breathing, the dilated pupils.

"I want you to fuck me, too," you confessed, clutching his T-shirt in your hands. Jungkook thrust his hips, knocking the air out of your lungs, and then his lips brushed against yours. A quick, demanding kiss. He kissed you, tasting every pad of your lips.

"Where do you want me to take you - to my place or to yours?" his voice sounded hoarse, with a greedy note. His hands explored your thighs steadily, slowly. He had already made sure that you were wearing only a thin thong under your skirt, and it was driving him crazy.

"To yours," you answered, almost without thinking, just trusting your senses.

His eyes sparkled with fire. And although he didn't say anything, the smile that touched his lips was so... triumphant. As if he had just won the jackpot.

His house was nothing like you had imagined. You had always seen him as a rebel, a cocky, slightly poor biker who lived in some cheap apartment with peeling walls. But instead...

You were greeted by a spacious loft with panoramic windows, a concrete ceiling, modern lighting, and a collection of rare music records on the shelf. The kitchen looked like something out of a cooking show, and the bathroom looked like something out of a spa.

There was a huge leather sofa in the corner, and a half-wall-sized TV mounted on the wall.

You stood in the middle of the living room, genuinely surprised.

"You... live here... alone?"

Jungkook put his helmet on the side table, ran his hand through his hair, and nodded.

"Sometimes with Jimin. But he got his own place lately. So... alone."

You look around once more, feeling a kind of admiration build up inside you. This place was stylish, masculine, and... expensive. Very expensive.

"So it turns out you're rich?" you couldn't help but ask directly.

He took off his shoes, took off his jacket, and threw it somewhere else. He shrugged his shoulders as he turned to you, and then walked past to the kitchen. You also took off your outerwear, kicked off your shoes, and followed him.

"I'm not poor." he said, taking something from the fridge.

His eyes sparkled as he handed you a can of beer. You took it, but did not drink it. Your nausea hadn't gone away, and you didn't want to make yourself sick. You put the can down and looking around the kitchen.

Jungkook took three big gulps, savoring the taste of the beer out loud. He put the bottle on the table and slowly walked over to you. His hands touched your hips and then slid down to your waist. Before you knew it, you were between his body and the kitchen table. His breath was on your neck.

"You know..." he murmured, almost casually, but with that special masculine note that made everything inside you shrink. "I've been thinking... Yoongi-hyung is watching you like the apple of his eye. And as far as I know, he doesn't let anyone else get near you."

You squeezed his shoulders slightly, giving him access to your neck. He touched your skin and the throbbing between your legs intensified.

"So?" You sighed, enjoying his kisses. He lightly bit your skin, leaving a mark, and then licked the place where he bit.

Jungkook pulled away from your neck and came closer to your lips. He bit your lips briefly and then asked.

"So... did you have something with someone?"

Before you could recover from his question, he kissed you again. This time with his tongue. He pressed his leg between yours, making you more and more excited. Your thigh felt his hard cock.

"It was," you replied as he reluctantly parted your lips. He raised one eyebrow and asked breathing directly into your lips. His palms went down to your hips and up your skirt. He found your buttocks and squeezed them hard.

"Who?" he asked, quietly, with undisguised curiosity in his voice. "Who was your first?"

Jungkook pulled up the edge of your thong and you unconsciously held your breath. This is really happening. And Jungkook is definitely going to fuck you tonight.

"Junho," you answered as quietly as he did, as if you might wake someone up.

"Was that the basketball player?" he asked as he with wrapped the elastic of your underwear around his finger.

"That's him, the one I introduced to Yoongi-oppa when you all came to our party."

He slowly began to pull your thong down. You were breathing fast and raggedly. It was hard to control yourself. He pulled your panties up to the top of your thighs, and then they fell down to your ankles. Jungkook stepped back half a step and looked down.

"Really white," he said with a smile, and then almost instantly turned to you, pressing his body against you again. "He was lucky to take your virginity, it was my wish," Jungkook admitted. His hand slowly went back under your skirt. You could feel the cool air caressing your wet folds. And then his fingers touched them. He parted your labia and pressed on your clit.

You closed your eyes, holding back a moan. He moved his fingers, smearing your wetness. His fingers dipped into your passage, making you moan against his lips. He smiled against your lips, pleased with your reaction.

"How many times did he fucks you?" Jungkook asked you. He fucked you with his finger, asking you about your first and so far only sexual partner. You didn't understand why he wanted to know, but you saw no reason not to answer.

"I don't know..." you said, your breath ragged and your mouth dry. "A few times."

Jungkook added another finger and plunged them deeper into you. He pressed his lips to your neck, kissing it so that he would definitely leave marks. You felt a slight stab of pain as he sucked on your tender neck.

"Did you like it? Was he good in bed?"

Your eyebrows knit together slightly, fighting the sensations of Jungkook's fingers and lips. You still didn't understand why he was asking you about Junho.

"I liked it, but I never came from his cock, only from his fingers and tongue," you answered honestly. Your cheeks were rosy pink with growing excitement, but it got even hotter when Jungkook turned to you with a surprised expression. He stopped his fingers that were deep inside you. His gaze was frozen on your face. You stood in the semi-darkness of the kitchen, both of you breathing rapidly, heavily. His fingers were still inside you, hot, strong.

"Not even once?" he wondered, with a hint of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that someone could touch you and not made you come .

"Yes..." you repeated, barely audible, unable to withstand his gaze. And then he stretched out his fingers, licked one slowly, without taking his eyes off yours, and then he scoffed softly, it made your skin crawl:

"I guess I'll be your first real..."

His lips touched yours with a new eagerness, not like before. He kissed you with hunger, with fury, with a promise that made your heart skip a beat. His arms tightened around your waist again, lifting you up lightly, and your buttocks felt the cold edge of the kitchen table.

He spread your legs, pulling up your skirt so that your pussy was in his field of vision. His eyes slid down your body, slowly, as if he wanted to memorize every detail. Then he leaned down to your breast and lightly bit your nipple through your clothes. Your breathless moan escaped your lips before you could think.

"I want you to come looking me in the eye," he whispered, raising his head, "so you remember who it was with for the first time for real."

You clenched around his shoulders as he plunged fingers into you again - steady, precise. This time, the rhythm was ruthless, each stroke exactly where you felt the most pleasure. With his free hand, he pulled off his T-shirt, and you saw the muscles on his chest play. He was beautiful. Perfectly.

"I'm going to make you forget his name," he whispered as you drowned in his kisses again.

He sank even lower, as if worshipping you. His breath burned your most sensitive spot, and you shivered. He put his hands on your hips.

Jungkook took his time. At first, his lips just touched your folds, barely. Then again. And then again. His tongue slid between the folds-slowly, insistently-forcing you to arch toward him. He played with your aroused clit, which ached with throbbing. But as soon as his tongue pressed lightly, the pain gave way to pleasure.

Jungkook sucked on your center and as he tongued you in, you thought you were going to go crazy. You arched to meet him, moaning above his head.

Jungkook let go of your clit, but he didn't go far away. Your pussy was right in front of his face.

"Fuck, you're so sweet, tiny, if I'd known earlier, I wouldn't have let that Junho touch you. I’m took you all to myrself," he said, looking up at you. You smiled, but it was more shy. You wouldn't have minded if he took you before Junho did, either.

Jungkook slammed into your center again, and you moaned as you felt the orgasm coming. But your sweet moans were interrupted by a ringing phone. Your phone was ringing in the jacket you'd left at the door. You fidgeted, clutching Jungkook's hair on hand.

"It's probably... Yoongi-oppa," you assumed, breathing heavily. "I can't... if he hears my voice..." you were panting from Jungkook's skill and about to come. He let go of your pussy and straightened up of you. You were disappointed that Jungkook didn't finish what he started. Your phone stopped ringing.

"If it was him, he'll call me now," Jungkook said as he licked his lips with the remnants of your cum. As soon as he finished his sentence, his phone rang in the back pocket of his jeans. Jungkook walked over to you, bit your lips. He pulled out his phone. Your brother's name was over the screen: "Yoongi-hyung." Jungkook picked up the phone.

"Yoongi-ya?" his voice was fun. He touched your clit, caressing it. You bit your lip, and squeezed his shoulders, stopping yourself from moaning.

"Jungkook-ah, where are you?" your brother's voice was clearly audible through the speaker of Jungkook's phone. You had to be very quiet.

"At home, Hyung, what happened?"

"Did you bring Y/N home? I've been calling her for a while and she's not picking up," your brother was worried. You fought the oncoming orgasm. Yoongi's voice made you feel like a criminal. Jungkook was caressing your clit without regret, and he spoke as if he hadn't done what he was doing now.

"I dropped her off half an hour ago. She was a little pale, she said she was going to sleep." Jungkook lied looking at you and smiling silently. You bit lip that your brother wouldn't hear you, because you were on the verge. "I think she's just sleeping."

"Thank you. It seems she really to be sleeping, I'll call her in the morning. What about you?"

"Oh, I was going to rest," Jungkook continued his lie. You couldn't hold back any longer, and with a few strokes of his fingers, you came on Jungkook's finger. He felt your clit twitching and squeezed it between his two fingers, prolonging your orgasm.

"Did you get the goods?" asked Yoongi. You were under the wave of orgasm and didn't immediately pay attention to your brother's question.

"Yes, I did. It's in my trunk, I'll go show Namjoon tomorrow," Jungkook replied. Before you could recover from your orgasm, you felt Jungkook plunge his fingers into your passage, but this time not two but three. You felt the pressure on your walls, almost moaning.

"Okay, kid, let me know tomorrow what Namjoon says, good night." Jungkook said goodbye and hung up the phone, and then leaned over to you, almost touching your lips.

"You've been so quiet, I'm proud of you. But now..." His eyes lit up. "Now you're going to come around my cock, tiny, and I promise you it's going to be more than once."

He picked you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his buttocks, touching his aroused cock with your bare pussy.

His eyes, slightly blurred, burning, never left yours. Jungkook kissed you, and he didn't care about watching the road at all, he knew exactly where he was going.

"Does Oppa know about the guns, too?" you asked when he pulled away from your lips. He stopped at the bedside. He lowered you to the floor and without wasting a second began to undress you.

"He knows," he undid the buttons on your shirt, "everyone knows." he meaning everyone in their company.

You put your hands on his hips, watching him fumble with each button.

"Why do you have these weapons? Are you selling them?"

Jungkook stopped for a moment, taking your chin in his hand.

"You're asking the wrong question again, let's channel your curiosity in a different direction." He took off your shirt and then your top, white, just like you said, exposing your breasts. Goosebumps covered your body as he touched one of your breasts and played with his tongue. After biting your sensitive bud, he straightened up. You felt the wetness between your legs increase.

"Did you give Junho a blow job?" Jungkook asked suddenly. You looked between his eyes, frightened. Your heart was beating fast, promising to jump out of your chest.

"No," you answered, holding back the trembling inside, "I didn't." Jungkook smiled with satisfaction. There was something gleeful in that smile.

"Why, he didn't suggest you?" Jungkook stroked your cheek, and then his thumb touched your lips. He pressed lightly, imagining those plump, pink lips, the color of the strawberries he loved so much, enveloping his cock.

"He did, I was just afraid," you admitted, looking down. Jungkook ran his finger along your lower lip.

"Why were you afraid?" his voice was husky, burning, and yet almost gentle. Without taking his eyes off you, Jungkook ran his finger from your lower lip to your chin. His eyes followed every emotion that passed through your face. You sighed, feeling like your body was caught between shame and arousal.

"I didn't trust him that much..." your voice was barely audible.

In response, Jungkook smiled again-slowly, confidently, with the shadow of a winner who had finally received the trophy he had long wanted. His hand slid down, touching your body again, as if to check if you were still breathing.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, and at the same moment he leaned over to you, touching your forehead. Your skin was burning and your breathing was ragged. He knew that he had already read the answer in your eyes, even before you nodded silently.

Without wasting a second, Jungkook pulled you close to him, his hands holding your buttocks tightly. He leaned down to your ear, and his hot whisper made you shiver.

"Then show me, tiny, how much you trust me..."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him, and you knelt in front of him, your eyes on the undone waistband of his jeans. Your heart was pounding, your throat was dry, but inside you burned with something more than fear - desire, fierce, uncontrollable.

Your trembling fingers undid the buttons on his pants as he watched you free him from tight boxers, your eyes locked on how aroused he was. His cock was big, his purple tip was dripping with cum and you curious what it was like on a taste. You had never given a blowjob before, but with Jungkook, it was like you knew what to do next.

Instead of saying anything, you licked your lips, swallowing the dryness in your mouth, and looked up to meet his gaze, full of hunger.

"Don't take it all, you might trigger a gag reflex. Breathe deeply through your nose, and open your mouth wide so you don't accidentally bite down," Jungkook instructed. His hand was on the back of your head, gently but insistently guiding you forward.

It was no longer about tenderness. It was about thirst. It was about years of desire that no one had fulfilled. About the thirst that had been building up and now exploding.

You took his cock in your hand and touched it with your lips. You kissed it lightly and then touched the head with your tongue. It was velvety with the salty taste of cum. You opened your mouth and took him not all the way in.

You felt his breathing become labored. His fingers lightly squeezed your hair, but didn't guide it, just held it, as if trying to keep it on the surface while a wave of pleasure engulfed him.

You moved your head, feeling his cock getting harder on your tongue. Your saliva mixed with his cum and dripped down through the corners of your lips. Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back. He enjoyed your friendly, warm mouth sucking him so well. He turned his head toward you and couldn't believe that his fantasy had become a reality.

He had wanted to fuck you for a long time, and he knew from the very beginning of your acquaintance that he would do it, even with Yoongi's forbidding. And when he noticed how you reacted to him, how your cheeks would turn pink every time he made a joke about you, he knew it wouldn't be a problem.

He just had to choose the right moment. But when a few weeks ago at the Busan festival, you accidentally put on his shirt and he saw you in it, his mind just boiled over. You were too sexy in it, and your expression, so shy and nervous, made his cock twitch in his pants.

Tonight, when Yoongi called and asked to pick you up from the club because he couldn't because he was away, Jungkook already knew this was a chance he couldn't miss. And when he saw how you were dressed, there was no doubt that he was going to fuck you. The police who came to the convenience store only helped him. Jungkook killed two birds with one stone: he got you and got rid of the cops' attention.

He looked at you, your lips running over his cock, and went a little crazy with pleasure. He fucking needed to destroy you for not being his for so long.

Jungkook stopped you. He pulled his cock out of that mouth and leaned over to you.

"The blowjob lesson will have to end because I really want to fuck your tight pussy."

He put you on your feet and found the zipper on your skirt and unzipped it. The skirt fell to the floor, gathering around your legs. While he was undressing you, you used your hand to wipe away the traces of his cum on your chin and lips.

Jungkook pulled you down on top of him. You sat on his cock, pressing your back against his strong chest. His hard cock rested against your buttocks. He wrapped his arms around you and put his lips to your ear. His hot breath hit your skin.

"Do you want it with a condom or without?"

"I've never done it without..." you said, and wanted to continue that of course it would be with a condom, but Jungkook suddenly squeezed you tighter in his arms.

"Tiny, you've been challenging me today. You didn't cum from a cock, and you didn't have a sex without condom..." his voice squeezed you from the inside as much as his hug. Deaf, low, with that special intonation that sounds not in your ears, but in your skin.

You could feel his skin on yours. His warmth. His presence. The way he was leaning into you only increased your thirst - not physical, but deeper. A thirst to surrender to this moment completely, to drown in it without a trace.

He ran his lips along your jaw, down to your neck. His tongue slid over the throbbing point at your throat, and you knew he could feel your heart beating fast.

"So... how do I do it with you, huh?" he asked as his palms slid down your hips, slowly, steadily. His eyes swallowed you, shamelessly and greedily. "Show you how it feels when there are no barriers? When pleasure consumes you without a trace?" he bit your ear.

You saw no point in resisting or saying no, even though you had never had unprotected sex. You trusted Jungkook, and you didn't know why. Why you wanted to surrender to him completely without any obstacles or rules. You wanted him for too long to set any boundaries.

"I want to..." you finally said confidently, "destroyed me Jungkook, I'm completely yours."

Jungkook froze, and then taking your face turned it to his, your eyes met: one hungry, the other submissive.

"Don't tell me those words, tiny, or I'll can’t stopped," his voice was low with dangerously overtones. You smiled, licking your dry lips.

"Destroyed…I've been waiting for this for so long," you admitted to him. His eyes darkened and he didn't need your words anymore. He kissed you, plunging his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you so hard that your insides trembled, and your lower abdomen was filled with the sensation of butterflies, which seemed to be thousands.

"Hold on now. You’ve asked for it." And next moment Jungkook lifted you up a little higher, and you felt your body holding its breath in anticipation. Jungkook put the head of his cock against your entrance and it stretched your entrance. There was only a thin line between you, and Jungkook was slowly but surely erasing it.

He plunged in and out of you slowly, stretching your walls. You bit your lip in pain, holding back your cries of pain. He stopped, holding your waist, and then one sharp, short movement and you sank down on his cock, screaming in pain. You sat on him, filled to the brim with Jungkook's cock.

"Fuck..." he cursed into your neck, pressing his head against yours, "you're so tight, I can barely contain myself..."

Your chest rose and fell. Jungkook took you by the waist and lifted you up a few centimeters, then lowered you again, the pain pulsing through you again.

As you became one, you realized how closely and deeply you were now connected. Jungkook moved his hips, and the movement did not give off as much pain.

"Can you feel it?" he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Yes," you sighed. You instinctively moved your hips to create the friction you needed. Jungkook moaned slightly, and you wanted to hear it again. You wiggled on his hips, feeling how wonderful he was moaning behind you and how nice it was to have his cock inside you.

You started to move, cautiously, trying to feel your body take him deeper, get used to him. Every movement you made was a new touch, a new discovery. Jungkook remained motionless, only his breathing was ragged, his fingers squeezing your thighs, leaving hot marks.

"That's it..." he whispered. His voice was hoarse, as if trapped somewhere deep in his throat.

His palms slid down your thighs, squeezed them, digging his nails into the flesh. And from that moment on, he began to move with you - deeper, more confident, each time blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

He kissed you everywhere he could reach - your neck, shoulders, back. Each touch made you clench your fingers on his palms, which you put on top of his, that were on your hips. You bit your lip to muffle the moans that were escaping you uncontrollably.

And then you felt something shrinking inside you. Like this wave was coming - hot, uncontrollable, so long-awaited. When it hit, you lost touch with reality. Jungkook held you tightly, whispering something completely incomprehensible. You felt dizzy and your cheeks went numb. Jungkook lifted you up and walked out. His hard cock rested against your back and you were both breathing heavily. You felt your entrance colliding in the aftertaste of the orgasm Jungkook had brought you to with his cock. It was a feeling that could not be described in words, it was as if you had been in heaven.

"You squeezed my cock so hard I thought you were going to strangle me," Jungkook praised you as he held you close. You smiled, breathing heavily. You suddenly felt tired. "You came from cock, congratulations, tiny" he joked.

"You should bought a medal for that," you joked back. His laughter vibrated around your neck. He gave you a few short kisses and then pulled you onto the bed. You fell on your back, pressed against him. His face was a few centimeters away.

"One for you, and now the other for the two of us." He leaned down, touched your lips briefly, kissing you deeper, longer, more drawn out.

His body was over yours again. He knelt down and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, and entered a little rougher than the first time, impatiently. You felt him inside you - familiar, but completely different.

He lay down on top of you, pressing his strong, pumped-up body against yours, tender and fragile. He touched your lips as if to soothe you. Jungkook began to move, grabbing your arms and lifting them above your head. His movements were slow, heavy, and deep at first. It was as if he wanted you to memorize every inch, every friction.

You moaned - softly, barely audible. But after several strong movements you couldn't hold back any longer. Your hands clutched his palms, digging your nails into his skin, your legs intertwined on his buttocks.

"You're so..." he didn't finish the sentence. He just entered you deeper, pressing your hips into the bed. His forehead touched yours. "I can feel you so much, tiny... you take me so well."

Your body throbbed - again. He sped up his movements. Sharper, faster. He seemed to be reaching your uterus. You were about to have a second orgasm, different from the first. It was burning, it was like a discharge - it was a hot wave that covered you irreversibly. You bent to meet it, as if asking for more.

"Jungkook..." you groaned, gasping for air.

At the end he allowed himself to indulge in pleasure. His movements became deeper, almost animalistic, but not rough. He was inside you completely, completely merged with you - and when you closed your eyes, when the wave hit you for the second time, you could hardly hear yourself - only his moan, deaf and low, escaping from your throat.

"Fuck..." he whispered, squeezing you with all his might. His body trembled like a stretched string and he barely managed to get out of you. He let go of your arms, lifted up on his knees and came on your stomach. You felt warm semen spilling out on your hot body.

You were both breathing heavily as if you had run a marathon. You could barely move. Your body felt equal parts pleasure, fatigue, and pain. Jungkook got off from you lying down next to you. He was sweating, just like you. A few strands of hair clung to his forehead.

"Are you alive?" he asked, kissing your temple. You gulped, feeling your throat dry.

"Yes, give me some water, please" you asked. Jungkook smiled and got out of bed. He didn't even try to cover himself. He went to the kitchen and came back a minute later with a bottle of cold water and paper towels. You tried not to look at his crotch, but your eyes kept going back there.

Jungkook sat down next to you and handed you the bottle of water, and you unscrewed it and began to drink greedily, as if you had never seen it before. He laughed, and while you drank the water, he wiped you clean of the remnants of his sperm.

"You bled a little," he said when he saw the blood on the white sheet. You raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" you asked, steadying your breath. You looked between your legs and saw a small red spot.

"Yes, so you can really consider me your first man," Jungkook said, throwing the napkins he was using to wipe you down and leaning down to your lips. You looked at his lips and smiled.

"Now that status is officially yours."

Jungkook pecked your lips. He ran his fingers down your thigh and asked softly:

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," you admitted, slightly embarrassed. "But it's a nice pain..." He smiled softly, touching your temple with his nose.

"Let's go to the bathroom, I'll run you some warm water." he suggested.

"I don't have the energy, maybe in the morning?" you whimpered.

"No, tiny, it has to be done now," you grumbled something incomprehensible and turned on your side, burying your face in the pillow. Jungkook laughed softly and leaned over to kiss your shoulder.

"I'll carry you if I have to. Don't test me."

You gathered your strength, stood up, covered with a blanket, and followed him. He turned on the water, checked the temperature with his palm, threw some relaxing salt into the tub, and turned to you while the bath was filling.

"Did you like it?" he came over, taking the edge of the blanket, but not yet tucking it in. You looked at him, holding the blanket closer to your chest, as if trying to protect yourself from his scrutiny, but your smile ruined everything-so soft, so shy, so real.

"That's a stupid question..." you said. "It was... more than amazing."

Jungkook's eyes sparkled. He took a step closer, his fingers gently touching your chin.

"I'm glad. And I'll be even happier if you stop being hidden of your body in front of me."

"I'm not... hidden..." you mumbled, clutching the blanket tighter.

"Yeah, you are. Then why are you holding this blanket so tightly?" he grinned predatory, grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it off of you.

"Jungkook!" you squeaked, managing to cover your chest with your hands, but he was already looking at you as if he had never seen you before-enthusiastically, carefully, with a kind of reverent respect.

"You're beautiful," he said, not looking away and taking your hands from your breasts, "Just... damn beautiful."

Your skin was covered with goosebumps. There was something special about the way he looked at you - no rush, no lust. Only admiration.

The water in the tub finally filled up. He helped you climb in, and then just sat down next to you, leaning his back against the wall, keeping his eyes on you.

"Tomorrow morning..." you began, looking into the water, "You'll take me home early. I don't know what time Yoongi-oppa is supposed to be back. So you have to leave before he gets home... and you know he can't find out, or we'll both be dead."

"I know," Jungkook nodded. "But I'm not sorry. Even if I knew he was going to kill me, I would have done it anyway."

You smiled as you put your head down on the edge of the tub.

"That's the scariest and most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"I have plans for you, tiny, so don't think it's over," he encouraged you, and your heart skipped a beat.

"What other plans do you have Mr. Suicide?"

Jungkook smiled, and his gaze grew even deeper-almost dark, yet so seductively gentle that it made your skin crawl.

He slowly leaned down to you, so that his lips barely touched your ear, and whispered with that special tone that made you feel as if you were in a heat wave:

"I can't tell you everything at once... Otherwise, where is the intrigue?" His fingers slid gently over your collarbone and then stopped right above your heart. "But one thing I can say for sure... You made a mistake by giving me permission to enter your life, tiny. Because I don't plan on leaving."

He stepped back a centimeter to see your reaction, but he didn't let you answer, just winked slyly and stood up, stretching.

"Now just relax."

"Are you leaving already?" you asked, a little upset.

"If I stay, you'll be fucked for the third time, and I'm afraid you won't be able to take it, my tender one" he threw over his shoulder, walking to the exit. You smiled, marveling at his insatiability. The door closed behind him, and you slowly lowered your body under the water, leaving your head above the surface. There were a thousand and one thoughts in your head, but every single one of them was about him - Jungkook.

[pineconepie]

Hello! i was wondering if you could do serial killer/slasher yandere parent? Dont know if thats too dark tho 😅

Here it is!! I've gotten a few requests like this, and since a lot of people also want to see more willing readers, I added a little of that to the mix!

TW: Implied/attempted murder, loss of child, implied assault/creeps toward reader (not the yandad), parental yandere, light forced infantilization, violence, reader implied to kind of has issues of their own

You know it wasn't a good idea to walk home alone, especially in this hour of the night, and double-especially when there had already been six murders around the same general area you live in, all clearly by the same person.

But, your phone had died, you couldn't get an Uber, and there wasn't really anybody you could call to come pick you up, even if your phone was working properly.

So, you decide that walking home will have to work tonight.

That probably wasn't the best choice you've ever made.

When you're halfway to your house, you hear a slight rustling around behind you. You spin around, hoping to catch whatever (or whoever) was following you in the act of making the sound. There's nothing there.

Shaking your head, you continue to walk down the street, subconsciously walking faster.

It must be that murder case that's been hanging over everyone's heads lately that's getting you nervous like this, right?

Wrong.

When you start speed-walking, the same noise as before starts up again, but it sounds closer than last time. You don't have much time before someone tries tackling you.

In the corner of your eye, you see a gun pulled out from under their trench coat. Quickly reaching out for the murderer's arm, you grab it, and try to stop them from aiming at you.

You shove them away and run in the only direction you can without getting tackled; the alleyway.

Seeing there's no time to hide, and all the hiding spots are obvious anyway, you succumb to a panic attack and crouch down onto the ground with your head in your knees.

You take out what money you have and chuck it in his direction. "Please, just take my money and leave me alone! That's all I have! If you want my phone too, just take it!"

The man almost cackles. "I don't need any money," he states matter-of-factly. You can hear the grin in his voice. He walks slowly towards you as if to intimidate you more, though it does little to affect your mindset more than it already has. He's still holding the gun. "Don't take it personally. It's nothing against you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

At this point, you've fully come to terms with your demise, which is clear to the other party.

You look up at him with puffy eyes from sobbing, and tears and snot running down your face. Most of his face is covered, but you can see his eyes.

And much to your surprise, you see them widen.

A few seconds go by, and now you're afraid to break eye contact. You watch as the man before you put his gun back in its holster inside of his trench coat and curse under his breath while looking away.

He clears his throat after a few more dramatic seconds go by. "Go home, kid." You stand up on shaky legs. "Grab your stuff first, then get outta here. I won't chase ya."

Hesitant, you do so anyway, because who would refuse such an offer?

Grabbing your money, you stuff it in your pockets and wipe your face. As soon as you're ready to go, you dash past the stranger, not wanting to spend another minute around the killer.

...

After that incident, you feel as if you're being watched.

Well, obviously you'd think so; you were just almost murdered.

But, when you're going to anywhere, you can feel eyes staring at you wherever you go.

A car with tinted windows follows each time. It isn't unique by any means, just a black Mitsubishi.

But still, it's there. Every time you leave your house, the same vehicle parks near you until you return to your home. Sometimes you try going on wild goose chases to catch the bastard following you off guard, but when you make your way back, it'll be parked somewhere near your driveway.

For almost two months this becomes a cycle, and it especially starts becoming concerning whenever you get sick, or have a bad day, there's always a basket of goodies on your porch steps the next day.

You don't eat them, and instead just throw them away, but it's clear none of them have been tampered with. The most disturbing part about it all is they have your favorites—your favorite animals now into plushies, your favorite snacks and candies, and other such things.

Is this his way of just messing with you until he inevitably comes to finish the job?

One night, when you're walking home from work, you notice the same vehicle tailing you from your workplace to your house. You walk with speed and reach your porch step, where the driver can see you enter your house, and they pull out, as if reassured you're safe.

Maybe they're trying to make sure you aren't hurt in any way?

Another night, one late, you stay out longer than you should, and much like any other time, you're followed once again.

Unlike normal though, there are three men whistling at you, taunting you. You ignore them as best as you can, walking faster and keeping your head down in hopes you won't seem interesting. Your wishes are not fulfilled.

Your arm is tugged harshly backward, pulling you onto the sidewalk with brute force.

The three guys look at you hungrily. "Where are you going this late at night?" the obvious leader speaks up, a greasy, slimy grin on his face, only worsening when he sees how fearful you've become.

"I...I'm going home."

One of them tries grabbing you, and against your better judgment, you take off in an attempt to escape, though you aren't fast enough to avoid your jacket being grabbed.

In your panic, you somehow end up wriggling yourself away and onto the ground. You try to get up, but one of them holds their foot on your back, pushing you back onto the asphalt.

But, oh-so-conveniently, you can hear a vehicle door open and slam shut, and then the pounding of boots against concrete.

The foot on your back lets up, because the guy goes tumbling backwards onto his back.

Now free, you sit yourself up quickly, rubbing the back of your head, which had hit the sidewalk. You blink the blurriness away, to see the man—the same one who nearly killed you and has been following you—hovering over the main creep.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?!" said creep yells. He tries standing up, but the killer stomps on his ankle.

A crunch resounds through the air, accompanied by a sharp scream. The other two guys stand frozen, watching in horror.

"Get your little buddy and get outta here," he warns the other two, finally backing away. He has a gun pointed at them threateningly, as to tell them not to try anything else.

They quickly help their leader up and hobble away in fear.

You want to yell at this man, to demand answers or run, but you can't. "Thank you, sir..." you whisper.

Now you can get a good look at him. He looks to be somewhere in his forties, maybe even fifties, and has graying brown hair, along with gray eyes.

There's a scar along his cheekbone that adds a rugged charm to him. He smells like expensive cologne and coffee beans. If he didn't try killing you not too long ago, you might've really put your trust into him, he seems like just a grumpy dad.

"Are you alright?" His voice sounds oddly soft, as if genuinely concerned for your health. He reaches toward you, and you close your eyes, readying yourself to be hurt, but he only examines a bruise forming on your forehead. "Thought you learnt your lesson last time about stayin' out late at night."

"I don't think it'd matter either way. You know where I live, I've seen your car," you mutter. You don't look him in the eyes, hoping to avoid seeing any possible rage held within them. He doesn't say anything after that, so you continue. "Why are you doing this?"

A rough hand grabs yours, lifting you to your feet. "Do what? Save ya from gettin' jumped?"

"No! That's part of it, sure, but the gifts, and protecting me, and—and...you were just gonna kill me all those months ago!"

He sighs. "Yeah, 'were'. Not 'are'. I decided I ain't gonna anymore."

"But why?" you repeat, glaring daggers at the older man.

"I usually go after bad people. I mistook you for someone else, and then when you looked up at me like you did," he says while shifting his stance to a more firm position, "'all scared and hopeless and pathetic and—" he pauses suddenly, shaking his head to recollect himself. "Look, I saw my kid in you."

"You have a kid?"

"Had. Had a kid."

You almost want to apologize for the loss of his kid, when you remember the fact he's literally a serial killer. "And that's why you decided to stalk me for the past two months and give me baskets full of stuff?"

"We both know for a fact you hardly take care of yourself well enough. You're clumsy as shit, always irresponsible, you eat terribly..."

"I'm not being scolded how I live my life by a serial killer!" you interject. "Who even are you, anyway?"

"Dante," he answers.

"And I figure you already know everything about me?" It's less of a question and more of a statement at this point.

He chuckles. "If I didn't, would you still introduce yourself to me?" When he gets no answer from you, he smiles lopsidedly. "Get in the car, I'll drive ya home."

You narrow your eyes at him. "So you can kidnap me, or something?"

Dante puts a hand on your shoulder, his expression becoming cold again. "If I wanted to do that, I could have already done it plenty of times before, kiddo. I'm a lot of things; a liar ain't one of them."

"Fine, okay. I'll let you drive me home." You roll your eyes when you hear him laugh victoriously under his breath and follow him into his car. "How do you have the time all day to stalk me like this?" you ask aloud, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"You call it stalking, I call it watchin' over you like a father should his child. So far, we've seen just how helpful it is having me keep an eye on you," Dante replies. He pauses. "And I'm retired, but I used to be a private investigator."

"Oh joy. My own personal PI." You buckle your seat belt. You're still in disbelief. Someone actually gives enough of a damn about your safety, and it's your local neighborhood serial killer? "You said you only kill bad people." He hums in confirmation. "Does that mean 'petty thief' bad? Or, like, actual bad people?"

"The latter, kid. Not 'cause it makes me feel like a good person, just makes me feel like less of a bad person."

"So you can admit you aren't a good person?" you quip sarcastically, arms folded.

"Course not. But I don't think there really are any inherently good people in the world," he says.

"What about me, then? Why protect me if you think there's nobody who's actually 'good'?"

Dante glances at you. "I don't expect you to be a saint. In my eyes, you're amazing, perfect even. And sure, you got flaws—a lot of 'em—but so does your old man."

You cringe at the statement. "You mentioned me reminding you of your kid. What happened?" you pry further. "All I know is they died, right?" You rub the bruise on your forehead.

"They were out with some friends one night. And a few hours later I'm gettin' phone calls about how my baby's in critical condition. I get there, but there wasn't anything I could've done to save 'em. All I could do was sit beside them 'til..." He trails off. "They died holding my hand. But," he adds, looking at you sternly, "that shit ain't happenin' to you. That's why I'm keeping you safe."

After he stops at a red light, you stare up at him, deep in thought. "Is that why you kill...?"

"Because someone killed my kid?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Dante nods his head after a moment of hesitation. "It started with that, yeah. I killed the bastards that put them in that hospital bed. But that wasn't enough. I guess with monsters like that, I get a little trigger-happy."

It's quiet for a while.

"...how do you know I won't come forward about this information?" you question once your home is in sight. "Or try leaving, for that matter?"

Dante laughs. "You wouldn't get far without me knowing."

That shuts you up quick. Your house pulls up soon afterwards.

"Well, uh, thanks for driving me home," you mumble, opening the car door.

"No problem. Oh, wait—" he takes your wrist gently to keep you from getting out yet. He digs in the compartment below your armrest. Eventually he finds a pen and pad. He writes something down, ripping it off and handing it to you. "—call me whenever you need it. Even if ya just need help studying, or whatever." Dante shrugs nonchalantly.

"Or I'll just knock on the window of the car outside my place?" You weakly smile. Despite the oddity of the situation, this whole scenario is strangely hilarious.

At least, it feels that way because you might've hit your head a little too hard.

...

Those people who were harassing you went missing. You know for a fact it was Dante, and while you don't wish for their deaths, it still leaves a sour taste in your mouth when you see them on the news, with their parents crying about how sweet and kind they were.

You don't even know how to feel about Dante anymore. Maybe he is a good person, who really is doing the world a favor, but it's just not worth the risk to associate with him.

Except he isn't going to leave you alone.

Still though, you decide that ignoring him until he just leaves you alone.

Which proves difficult because sometimes he comes around and knocks on your door every so often, to drop off food, and just check in on you and how you're doing.

Some days you wonder what might happen if you answer, or send a text. He did give you his phone number after all.

You fight the curious urge, until one day, when tiredly trudging home after a particularly awful day.

For some reason, you look around the streets for a black car following you, but find nothing of the sort.

You decide to go against your better judgment and decide to call Dante. You don't know why you're doing this, every instinct in your body is telling you to not do it.

The phone rings a few times, until an annoyed voice picks up. "What? I'm busy," he snaps.

"Oh, uh, sorry," you stutter. "I shouldn't have called, that was stupid of me—"

"Wait, no, I didn't—" Silence hangs in the air. "Sorry," Dante says softer this time. "Didn't know it was you at first. Is everything alright?"

Your fingers tap against the wood of the table nervously, trying to make up some sort of excuse to cover for the real reason you're calling him.

"Nothing, just... didn't have a good day." You feel so pathetic right now, too caught up in your own emotions to hear the muffled cries in the background on Dante's side of the call. "But that doesn't concern you, does it? Why am I saying this?"

"It's alright, kiddie. Whatever happened to make you upset is important to me." Dante is definitely smiling right now. "Well, listen. I was busy right now, but it can wait, so how's about I swing by wherever you are and you and I can spend some time together? Get somethin' to eat, maybe? Your choice."

You find it hard to decline him. "...okay. I'm not home right now though. Can I just call an Uber and meet you somewhere?" you suggest.

He snorts. "My driving so bad that you'd rather waste money than spend thirty minutes in the same vehicle as me?"

"No, it's not that. I just feel like I'll be intruding since you're busy, or something."

"Don't be silly. Just tell me where you are and I'll be there soon. Alright? Don't get into any suspicious vans or anything like that while I'm not there." He ends the call with that.

The next ten minutes or so you stand around awkwardly, watching as pedestrians pass by. Eventually though, Dante arrives, driving up beside you. He gestures for you to open the passenger door, which you oblige.

You climb inside, buckle your seatbelt, and turn toward Dante. "So...where are we going?"

He stares back at you for a brief second. "Depends. Where would you like to go?"

After some hesitation, you give your favorite restaurant, which he nods in acknowledgement to and begins to drive.

"Why was your day bad?" he asks. "Did something happen? Someone hurt you?" At the red light, he turns to give you a quick glance-over, searching for any bruises or cuts, most likely. You're not injured, though the concerned look on his face stays.

"No, I just haven't slept much lately," you mutter.

"Have you eaten today?" You look away from Dante as an answer, making him curse under his breath. "The biggest hazard to you is yourself, it seems." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "I'm glad you finally called me, by the way. Why'd you decide to do it now?"

You hesitate. "I was feeling lonely, I guess."

"Really? Is that all?" The light flicks to green again, and Dante continues to drive.

"...I didn't see you stalking me today. Normally I see your car following me everywhere."

His breath hitches. "And...that worried you?" Dante looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

You don't reply.

Soon the conversation dies out, and neither of you bother to start another one up.

He focuses on driving, while you distract yourself with counting the amount of trees along the sidewalk on the way to the destination.

When you two pull up in the parking lot, you expect there to be tension, but surprisingly enough, the silence between you two feels comfortable, safe almost. It's a nice change from the usual uneasiness.

Dante gets out first, and you follow. The bell of the restaurant dings when you both enter.

"How many?" the hostess asks politely.

"Two. Thank you," Dante says with a charming smile. To you, it's an obvious fake persona, but she buys it hook, line, and sinker. You roll your eyes discreetly as she leads you two to the booth. You sit on opposite ends, taking your menus from her before she heads off to take care of other customers.

You think about it, then settle for the cheapest thing on the menu, trying to avoid taking advantage of Dante's kindness.

He notices anyway. "I know I don't dress fancy, or anything, but I've got the cash, kiddo. If you want to order the whole menu, you could, and I'd still be able to afford it tenfold. Nothin' is too expensive for you."

"I..." Your face burns out of embarrassment. You flip through the menu once more. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am." Dante scans through his own menu, although half-heartedly, considering his focus is still mostly on you.

Once your orders are made, you both try making small-talk, which proves ineffective. Then your orders arrive, and that too, becomes awkward when he insists on helping you cut up your meal into smaller pieces.

You make a show out of being mad, though truthfully it isn't bothersome as you try letting on it is.

After dinner (which he pays for completely) he looks like he's contemplating on something in the car. "Would you like to come to my place, kiddo?"

"Like, your house?" you clarify.

Dante nods. "It's only fair. I know where you live, I figure it'd be polite showing you the same courtesy."

"Sure, but it depends if I'll leave alive," you joke, but part of you is still concerned about that.

"With the way you take care of yourself, I think staying with me might actually help increase your lifespan a little bit."

A few moments pass by, the two of you basking in the company of one another. It's...nice.

The drive to Dante's home is around thirty minutes long, and barely in the city, surprisingly enough. His house isn't anything super impressive, but it doesn't look bad either.

A very average, middle-class home. It's comforting to see Dante likes simple things, makes it easier to think of him as a normal person than the murderer you know he is.

He steps outside of the car and opens your door for you. You give him a questioning glance, but decide to ignore it for now, unbuckling and heading over to the porch with Dante trailing behind you.

"This is it," he states, pulling his keys out to unlock the door, beckoning you to go in before him.

The interior of his home isn't anything special either, which you enjoy seeing. It makes Dante seem more human. On top of that, it feels safe here, even if this is the last place it should feel this way. It does have a slightly annoying (and worrying) scent of bleach permeating throughout the house.

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Can I ask something? It might be a little weird or triggering, so..."

"You can ask me anything. Doesn't bother me," Dante says.

"Okay... are you so interested in me because I simply look like or act like your kid? I'm worried you expect me to act like them or something similar..."

Dante sighs heavily, sitting down on his couch, and motioning for you to join him. Hesitantly, you do so, staying silent while you wait for him to gather his thoughts.

"I know you're not them. Sure, you remind me a bit of them, but you're your own person, too. It's fine if you don't want to pretend you're anyone but yourself, y'know? That ain't what I'm looking for, and forcing someone to do that wouldn't make anyone happy." He mulls over his words for a moment. "I guess I just want to be a dad again. I felt useless after my kid died, so you gave me that opportunity again."

You look at the ground awkwardly. "Why couldn't you just adopt a kid?"

"A lot of money," Dante answers. "Not to mention not working anymore and not being married anymore makes adoption agencies wary. Plus, you looked like you needed protecting, so I wanted to do so. Now, my turn. Why'd you invite me out? Wanted to spend some time with your old man?" Dante laughs lightly, but his eyes show clear hopefulness.

"If you insist on acting like my father," you pause, taking in a breath, "then yes. I suppose that means I wanted to spend time with you. Is that okay?"

Dante looks almost ready to cry. His hands twitch at his sides. "'course it is," he mutters softly, barely containing himself from getting overly emotional.

You scoot closer to Dante, hesitating for only a few moments before wrapping your arms around him. "Thank you for inviting me into your home."

He reciprocates quickly, holding onto you like a lifeline, face buried in your hair. "I missed this so much..." His voice is choked-up as he holds you tighter to him. "My baby," Dante whispers.

You don't know why you're letting this happen, but you don't want to dwell on that. His embrace is more comforting than it should be, especially considering what he is. But if he wants to play pretend, to imagine he has a child again, you may as well let him.

Even if that means ignoring the faint noises from the basement, and pretending it's just someone next-door.

"I love you so much," he mutters. He almost sounds hysterical, even if his tone is quiet, almost a whisper. "Never leave me. I can't take that, kid. I can't."

You pretend to be asleep, just so you won't have to answer that. He sighs and only holds you tighter.

[thealexchen]

Why Dontnod's games feel original and inspired (and why Deck Nine's games don't)

So, I've talked at length about how Double Exposure feels much more like a corporate product than a playable piece of art entertainment [My initial thoughts on the DE trailer] [My thoughts on the early access paywall] [My thoughts on the weird marketing].

But now with the release of Lost Records, I feel like I have no choice but to confront the question: were any of Deck Nine's games truly original or inspired in any way? And honestly, I have to say no.

Objectively, I could say it's because Deck Nine literally has not produced any original IP's since their rebrand from Idol Minds in 2017. Their only narrative adventure games are all part of the LiS franchise. But even their most original game, True Colors, pretty obviously follows the first game's narrative formula (young woman with a superpower investigates a sudden disappearance/death in a small town with a dark secret, has two opposite sex love interests, learns about a twist villain, is nearly murdered, and goes through a psychological nightmare in the last episode) to a tee. But oh look, there's also a LARP!

But I believe there's more to it than that, because when I look at Dontnod's games, they are always inspired by other works. Life is Strange 1 plays very clear homage to Twin Peaks with the Pacific Northwest setting and Rachel Amber resembling Laura Palmer. Max Caulfield is named after the protagonist of The Catcher in the Rye, another novel about the fleeting innocence of childhood and superficiality of society. Life is Strange borrows tropes from Donnie Darko, Groundhog Day, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Stand By Me, and even Blue is The Warmest Color for its themes and plot points. Just take a look at its "Shout-out" page on TV Tropes. And the result is... something completely original, with riveting plot twists, memorable characters, and an ending that will make you cry.

This shouldn't make sense, right? You'd think this big soup of references would turn into an indistinguishable mess of cliches, but Life is Strange managed to be a synthesis of everything the writers loved and were inspired by, to become something completely new. Why? Because nobody had tried to take Twin Peaks, Donnie Darko, and The Catcher in the Rye and turn it into a video game before! And make it gay!

The point being, Dontnod consistently makes original material because they take creative risks. This is definitely not done lightly, since they still need to be a company that generates profit, but they still prioritize making art over selling out. Their stories feel inspired because they are inspired; when writers love what they're writing about, the result is a passion project that has loving, clever nods to all the works that are woven into it.

So perhaps a way to reword that first question is to then ask, "Have Deck Nine's games ever been inspired by anything?" And unfortunately, the answer is still no. Instead, they just copy what they hope will sell well. And a bland imitation for the sake of generating profit is never going to produce anything that feels original.

This takes me back to Lost Records, which is also clearly inspired by the same works: Twin Peaks, It: Chapter One, The Craft, The Blair Witch Project, The Goonies, Stand By Me. But again, no other game studio besides Dontnod has ever looked at these works and thought, "But what if it starred teenage lesbians instead?" Or, more specifically: "How do we capture the spirit of what made these media great and incorporate that into a new story for a new audience?" And those characters have so much thought and care poured into them too: while I've been disappointed that Double Exposure Max looks airbrushed to hell and back, I love that the Bloom & Rage girls have asymmetrical faces, acne, freckles, body hair, skin discoloration, and diverse body types. Double Exposure is marketed as nostalgia bait for fans, where Max is reduced to a prettied-up, polished-up, representation of nostalgia, not even her own character anymore, in a game that otherwise has no connection to the original. Her quips are reduced to "Hey! Remember our good ol', dad-joke cracking, dorky Max Caulfield??" and her grief is shoved aside for "Hey, look at that appealing new love interest! Because we knoooow y'all love your sapphic romance, right?"

By contrast, Lost Records has only been out for 10 days, but I already feel like the girls are some of the most memorable characters I've come across in gaming for the niche they fill. Swann seems like your typical Max-like dork, except she's also a movie buff and giddy about bugs, horror, and the paranormal; and has clearly been affected by her mother's fatphobic beliefs. Autumn is a level-headed leader who always stuck to her desire to help others, and her Blackness naturally informs her desire to feel valued and not cause trouble in a small, very white, conservative town. Nora intrigues me so much for going from a fun-loving rebel punk teen to a more gender-conforming, capitalist-leaning, influencer businesswoman. And Kat feels like an evolution of Chloe's cynicism, where her scrappy charm belies an almost unsettling obsession with the occult and a deep, tragic chasm of rage at having to confront her mortality far too young. They make sense. They feel carefully written, genuine, and like real people.

But most of all, Dontnod's games have never felt like products. In fact, most of their characters have historically gone against the grain of what traditionally "marketable" characters are. The first LiS took all these aforementioned stories about straight white men and chose to remix and retell it through the eyes of a young, queer, time-traveling girl instead. Tell Me Why is the first AAA game with a trans protagonist, and Tyler is voiced by a trans actor in all the language dubs. Lost Records decided that it would tell its story through four queer teenage girls, with women writers onboard, and fucking own it. As long as Dontnod keeps making games that stick to their creative integrity, I'll keep respecting their vision in whatever they decide to create next. Also, maybe I should finally watch Twin Peaks.

Thank you for reading!